Transference
by Demosthenes23
Summary: The team chase after a suspected killer only to find themselves in a uniquely bizarre situation. Takes place in S8. Mystery/Sci-Fi
1. Chapter 1

Murdoch, Julia, Brackenreid and George had just been to see a roaring rendition of Shakespeare's _Midsummer Night's Dream _and were regaling the funniest moments as they strolled down a darkened street. Every few seconds the clack of Brackenreid's cane resounded. For the first time in his life, it wasn't just a style statement, he actually had need of it. The brutal beating O'Shea and his brother had given him had left him permanently crippled. But thanks to Julia's unfailing deliberations, he had managed to reduce the extent of this impediment and could now hobble along at a decent rate if he so desired.

They stopped at the corner and bid each other goodnight. Just as they were turning to leave however, there was the unmistakeable sound of gun fire. The team rushed towards a nearby alley where the shot was estimated by Murdoch to have been fired from. A man lay in a pool of blood. And kneeling over him was his killer!

"Police!" yelled all three men at once.

Brackenreid whipped out the gun he now always carried with him for protection and levelled it at the distant killer.

The armed man cocked his head in their direction and then took off down the bend. All four of them chased after him even though Murdoch told Julia to stay put. They zigzagged along the alleyways for some time until the killer had been trapped by a dead end.

Understandably Brackenreid showed up last. Once more he raised his gun towards the bloody, crazed looking man.

"There's nowhere else to run!" the inspector barked, severely winded. "Drop your weapon!"

The killer eyed them all in turn and then snapped his gun up with surprising speed. Brackenreid let loose a shot at the exact same moment as the killer and everything went black.

All four of them crumpled to the ground in a heap.

The now seriously injured man staggered over them and to freedom...or death.

* * *

Upon regaining consciousness, the first thing Murdoch experienced was a severe headache followed by an intense inability to breathe. Thinking his lungs had been punctured, he frantically patted himself down and immediately realized something was amiss. There were stiff protrusions coming out of his chest. If he wasn't much mistaken, he had breasts!

_What on earth_! he yelped internally, lurching upright. One look at his hands and clothing was all the confirmation he needed to tell him that he was not himself. And when he glanced around him and found his body lying a few feet away, he knew exactly where his mind currently resided. Still, he couldn't, wouldn't believe it until he had more visual proof. So he scuttled over to a puddle on all fours. Julia's horrified face stared back at him.

_This can't be happening!_ _I must be dreaming!_

After hesitating a moment, he slapped Julia's face hard a few times but the scene remained much the same.

Then as if out of a horror story, his body moved of its own accord and put a hand to its head. "Oh, what happened?" it lamented. "I feel as though I was run over by a carriage."

It looked over at him and its mouth dropped open.

Hyperventilating, the corset dug into his sides terribly, getting tighter and tighter as if he were in the death grip of a boa constrictor, until he swiftly passed out again.

* * *

**Yes I know, I am 100% certifiable. XD But this idea refuses to go away so I apparently have to get it out of my deranged system now. And yes, it's going to get much stranger/funnier than this.**


	2. Chapter 2

After much disorientation and panicking, they finally calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts so that they could attempt to understand what had just happened to them. All they knew for sure so far was that, when the killer fired, Murdoch's mind had somehow been transferred to Julia's body and vice versa, and the same thing had happened to George and Brackenreid, respectively. * **For future reference, whenever I mention a character's name in the present, I am referring to their **_**mind**_** and not their body. Hope that's not too confusing. ***

Half of the party was not nearly as horrified as the other half to find themselves in another persons body. Both sides made their thoughts plain as they backtracked towards the dead man.

"I must say," said Julia, laughingly in his voice, "I quite enjoy not wearing a corset!" She twirled around as if she were a ballerina. "It's most liberating having full range of motion!"

"Yes," said Murdoch sourly, eyeing his body warily as it performed more unnatural and feminine movements, "I seem to recall you had similar sentiments the last time you wore men's clothing."

Julia kept dancing around gracefully, holding his top hat out, and Murdoch snapped very shrilly, "Could you please desist in such juvenile behaviour, Julia?"

She made a face at him thinking, _is that really what I sound like?_ but granted his request and fell back into line with her soon to be husband, or rather herself.

Brackenreid was now bounding around them like a deer or a small child. "This is bloody fantastic!" he kept exclaiming every few seconds. "I feel like a new man!"

"That's because you _are_, sir!" said George grumpily, grimacing with every slow step he took. "You are making me look the fool! Please stop!"

"No can do, Crabtree!" grinned Brackenreid, jumping around like a moron. "This is bloody fantastic! All those pies haven't hurt you one bit!"

_Well I feel like I am dying!_ he wanted to yell at the inspector but didn't considering the man _had_ almost died five months ago. The O'Shea brothers had been apprehended two weeks after the assault and were already serving time in prison. But the inspector had been in hospital for three months, just trying to regain basic motor functions in his legs. For awhile there they had thought he was never even going to wake up, but Brackenreid was a stubborn bloke and had persevered until the last.

Finally the group reached the scene of the crime and went over to investigate further. Julia and Murdoch crouched down on either side of the corpse to see what they could see. There wasn't much. Cause of death was exceedingly obvious. The light haired thirty something year old man had been shot in the forehead at point blank range. His eyes had been closed by the killer after the fact suggesting that they knew each other.

Murdoch checked the deceased man's pockets for identification and retrieved his wallet. "Gilbert Fairfax."

"Any idea who that is, Murdoch?" said Brackenreid, now tapping his toes enthusiastically to an invisible beat.

"None, sir," he said shaking his head and feeling the ruby earrings hit the side of his neck every time. "And I'm afraid we'll have to wait until morning to make further enquiries."

"Surely we can accomplish _something_ yet tonight!" boomed George, startling himself badly so that he put a hand to his chest.

"Yes," said Julia, standing up, "I will perform the postmortem and see if I can dig up any clues about our mysterious assailant."

"Thank you, doctor," George replied, wrinkled brow becoming slightly less wrinkled as he smiled.

"Sir," Murdoch said to Brackenreid, also getting to his (dainty) feet, "you said before that you had hit the man. How much of an injury did you do him?"

"I don't know, I passed out right after. You think he might have checked himself into the hospital?"

"It's definitely possible."

"Well, look into it then, Murdoch."

"I will, sir. All right then," said Murdoch clapping his hands together and giving Brackenreid a pointed look. "It appears that _someone_ needs to head to the constabulary to fetch the transport carriage."

"With pleasure!" he pipped and sprinted in the direction of the station house, with the goofiest smile imaginable across his face.

* * *

**So, who do you like best so far? I think Brackenreid is my favourite because he's the funniest.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**KTG, Yeah that would have been funny too...unfortunately it never even crossed my mind!**

* * *

Murdoch approached the admittance desk at Toronto General. A fresh faced nurse glanced up from some papers.

"Hello," he said, "I am De...Dr. Ogden...and I am here on behalf of the constabulary."

"Oh?" the woman said mildly surprised, suspiciously eyeing his rather fancy yet dirty attire. "In what capacity might I ask?"

"Suffice it to say, there is an ongoing murder investigation. As such I need to know if you have had any gun shot victims in tonight."

"Not that I am aware of. But I just arrived. Let me check the records."

"Thank you," he said pleasantly.

The sound of pages being flipped for a couple of minutes followed. He knew what that meant even before she next spoke and felt himself becoming moody again. "No, there have been no gun shot victims tonight and haven't been any for over two weeks."

"I see," he said. "If any should happen to present themselves..."

"I'll let you know, doctor." She picked up a pen. "How can I reach you?"

"Telephone station house four immediately."

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you for your assistance in this matter," he said with a slight smile. Then he attempted to tip his hat to her, grasping thin air instead and garnering a strange look from the nurse. "Good night," he muttered and left.

* * *

On the way to the station house, a drunken lout started to tail him. He ignored the man's cat calls until he got closer and slurred, "What's a pretty lady like yourself doing out so late?"

"Go home and dry off, sir," Murdoch said tersely.

"Whoa honey, I just asked a simple question. No need to be so rude."

Murdoch sighed and turned around to confront him. "_Please_ go home and dry off, sir."

The man's smile disappeared completely. "You're being a bitch, you know that? I just wanted to have a nice conversation with you but now I'm not feeling so friendly."

Murdoch smiled grimly. "Neither am I, sir." He clenched a fist tight.

The drunken man laughed. "Is that supposed to scare me, little lady?"

Before the man could take two steps towards him, he had hit the man in the face. He was surprised at how much it hurt his hand. The man staggered slightly but not nearly as much as he was expecting. Now the drunk was really mad and grabbed his wrist painfully.

"I'm going to teach you some manners now," the lout said dangerously.

Panicking he did the only thing he could think of, that he had seen Julia do on many occasions. He punched the man in the throat as hard as he could!

The drunk let go to clutch his throat, making a horrible choking sound, and Murdoch took the opportunity to flee.

* * *

He went straight to the morgue and stormed up to Julia who had just begun the autopsy. She had removed the tuxedo jacket, rolled up the sleeves of the shirt to her elbows and strapped an apron on for good measure. It should have been an odd sight for him to behold but he was too put out to notice.

Julia put down her scalpel and gave him a puzzled expression. "William, what's wrong?"

"When we are married, you are _never_ under _any_ circumstances permitted to go walking at night by yourself. I absolutely _forbid_ it."

She was outraged at first until she noticed the knuckles attached to her own body were very red. Julia put a hand to his (her) chest. "Did someone bother you?"

Murdoch continued to glower.

"Are you all right, William?" she asked bringing his hand up to her face.

Needless to say, looking into your own eyes while comforting your betrothed was about the most surreal experience one could have.

"I'm fine," he huffed. "But you have to give me your word that you will _always_ take a carriage at night if I am not there to escort you home for whatever reason."

_That is common sense,_ she thought privately. _I've always known to do that._

"If it will make you feel better, you have it."

He sighed and took her hand. "Thank you, Julia."

They leaned in for a kiss but were too bewildered to go through with it and instead awkwardly parted and got back to work. While Julia cut the man open, Murdoch busied himself with retrieving the bullet from his brain. It had lodged itself almost too far into the man's skull for tweezers to reach so that he just barely succeeded in grasping it.

He held the bloody bit of compacted metal under a magnifying glass. "It looks to be a .38, likely from a Smith and Wesson."

"Popular choice. Not likely to help you much then." She glanced up from her rib cutters when he didn't respond. "What is it?"

Murdoch was frowning. "The gun the killer was holding...it wasn't a revolver of any kind."

Julia snorted which coming from Murdoch's body sounded very bizarre and gave them both pause. "Obviously not, William, or we wouldn't be in the predicament we find ourselves in."

"But then how did he kill Mr. Fairfax?"

Julia gave him a piercing look which unnerved him. "Who says he did?"

* * *

Shortly after she had removed the ribs, she stood back and stared. Murdoch was curious too and took a look. He frowned. Then they stared at each other.

"What does it mean, Julia?"

"I'm not sure...I've never seen anything like this before."

His internal anatomy was mirrored!


	4. Chapter 4

**Annemac, don't worry, you're not alone. I'm confusing myself (and the characters) a lot too. :p  
**

* * *

"I'm telling you," said George emphatically, in the empty station house, "it's Venusians!"

"It's not bloody aliens!" yelled Brackenreid. He looked to Julia and Murdoch for support. "Right?"

"Well..." said Julia

"There are several curious details..." said Murdoch.

"Oh come on!" exclaimed Brackenreid throwing up his hands. "Not you too!"

George looked gleefully in the inspectors direction. He was fairly well vibrating with delight. Murdoch noted that the inspector hadn't looked so youthful in ages. "They were bound to make contact sooner or later, sir! And I personally have always believed that they were living amongst us!"

Brackenreid wasn't giving up that easily. He crossed his arms against his chest and smugly said, "If they're bloody aliens, Crabtree, then why do they look like us?" George furrowed his brow and stopped bouncing on the spot. "That's what I-"

"Parallel evolution, sir!" chimed George, snapping his fingers. "Same as the pig like entity from a few years back!"

"Are you daft man! You yourself proved it was just an earthly pig!"

"Well, in _that_ case it was but _now_-"

"Stop, Crabtree, just stop!" Brackenreid bemoaned, eyes closed. "You're giving me another bloody headache! And anyway, back to the matter at hand! How does this _man's_ lopsided organs help us with the case?"

"Actually, sir," said Murdoch, "lopsided means disproportionate on one side. These organs are mirrored, as in the complete opposite arrangement to what is normally found."

Brackenreid glared at Murdoch. "Lopsided, mirrored, I don't give a rats ass! How does this knowledge help us?"

Murdoch and Julia shared a look and Julia responded. "I'm not sure, inspector. It may not even be of relevance."

The inspector made a loud and somewhat rude sound of annoyance. "Well, get back to it then!" Julia bristled at the irate command. "Please, Mur...doctor," he said after a moment. She nodded once and left. "Now Murdoch, what _logical,_" - he glared at himself_,_ "explanation can you give for this...mind swap business?"

"As I told you before, sir, I don't have one. Nothing I've ever heard of or read about could account for this phenomenon."

"Which just proves-" said George.

"Can it Crabtree!" Brackenreid caught sight of the clock. It read after midnight. "Bloody hell! Is that the time! I need to telephone Margaret to let her know I'm not dying in a ditch again!"

He scampered into his office and picked up the receiver. Murdoch cleared his throat loudly and Brackenreid looked up.

"Sir, aren't you forgetting something?" Murdoch tilted his head in George's direction.

"Right. Get over here Crabtree! You're going to say goodnight to my wife!"

* * *

When Julia and Murdoch couldn't find any references to mirrored anatomy in her textbooks or the medical journals on hand, they decided to call it a night and try to get a few hours of shut eye. So did the others, albeit more begrudgingly. Out of necessity Brackenreid and George were forced to stay at the precinct, in case the medical assistant called them back and also because as Brackenreid so eloquently put it, 'there was no way in hell Crabtree was getting anywhere near Margaret!'. But Julia and Murdoch didn't share the same dilemma...assuming they both stayed at her place that is.

The times that they had shared a bed were few and far between and that wasn't going to change tonight. It was just too strange to embrace oneself or stare into your own eyes as you tried to drift off. Therefore they decided that she would sleep in the guest room in order to keep up appearances lest one of them ran into the housekeeper in the morning. However, it quickly became apparent that Murdoch was going to need some serious help getting himself undressed.

"Stop fidgeting," she scolded as she undid the laces to her corset, "I'm almost finished."

"Please hurry, Julia, I feel as though I will faint again if you don't."

She snorted and again they froze from such a weird sound.

He frowned. "And why is that so funny?"

"You've survived arrows, strangulations and falls from great heights..." she chuckled and continued on with difficulty, "but a few hours in women's clothing is too much for the _great_ Detective Murdoch!"

He pursed his lips in annoyance but didn't say anything and she broke down into gales of laughter. Finally she regained control of herself and his evil entrappings fell away and he could breathe normally again!

"Ah, much better," he sighed in contentment. Then he glanced down to see just a sheer chemise covering his fiance's bosom and hurriedly glanced away before he even had a chance to become aroused.

Julia shook her head with a sad smirk. "A gentleman until the end, eh, William?"

"I like to think so," he said, grabbing a robe to cover himself better with.

"As do I...though it does become rather tiresome sometimes."

"Yes, well, thankfully we are to be married in two days time."

She raised his eyebrows at that. "Thankfully? What if we have not figured out how to get back into our own bodies by then?" _What if we never figure it out? _Her face soured and she sat on the edge of her bed. "Must we postpone the wedding again? I don't think I could bear it."

He sat down beside her and took his hand. "Have faith, Julia. We _will_ sort this mess out in time." He smiled. "I am quite determined for you to become Mrs. Murdoch on Saturday."

Again they thought of giving each other a kiss and again thought better of it. They settled for a hand squeeze.

"Well," she said getting up, giving him a mischievous look, "I'm off to the water closet now."

_Why is she telling me that?_

Then he clued in as she left the room and he jumped up after her. Now that the corset was off, he was keenly aware of the sway of his breasts and was momentarily distracted. "Wait just a moment, Julia! You can't!"

She turned around to face him, giving him an innocent look. "Can't William? Can't _what_?"

"You _know_ what!" he said very flustered. "It wouldn't be proper!"

With hands on hips she tried to be stern but failed and laughingly said, "Are you suggesting I let my...your bladder burst?"

"Of course not but-"

"Then how _else_ do you propose I relieve myself? Will you assist me every time I have to go as if I were a small child? Will I have to assist you?"

"That would be absurd..." he muttered, cowed.

"Glad we are in agreement," she said with a large grin and headed into the water closet. "Now," she called loudly through the door, "let's see what I am getting. It's about time, don't you think?"

_Oh for the love of..._he cringed internally, rubbing his forehead in extreme agitation.

There was a brief silence. "Oh my! _Very_ impressive, William! I dare say it's the _finest_ specimen I have _ever_ seen!"

Despite himself he blushed and grinned stupidly. Then he realized he too had to urinate and he suddenly became nervous at the very prospect, which just made him have to go all the more.

* * *

**This concept is wrong on sooo many levels so I had to point it out the only way I know how: funny/awkward/cute Jilliam scenes! ;D  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is even more strange/disturbing than last chapter...but it's also hilarious to me so I don't care!**

* * *

Murdoch awoke bleary eyed a few hours later when the sun rose high enough to shine rays through the partially veiled window. He was at peace with the world for all of five seconds, just breathing in Julia's lovely scent until he remembered where he was and more importantly, _who _he was.

_Confound it! I had hoped that was all just a bizarre dream!_

Groaning internally, he forced himself out of bed, momentarily startled by a large quantity of hair trailing across his shoulder. A lot had to be accomplished today. In fact, if they didn't find that mysterious man from last night soon, and somehow reverse this process, the wedding would have to be postponed again. Unless...for a moment his still tired mind thought it would somehow be acceptable to get married as is. Then he pictured himself wearing a wedding dress, shivered, and put such silly notions out of his mind completely.

He glanced across the room and at the evil corset from yesterday. He'd rather take a bullet than put it on again but there was nothing for it. As such, he needed Julia's assistance once more, so he shuffled towards the guest bedroom.

Suddenly there was a loud sound of surprise on her end which startled him a great deal and he rushed in unceremoniously.

"Julia!" he blurted out, searching for intruders frantically but not finding any.

Julia was partially propped up in bed looking bemused. Instantly he calmed down. Clearly she was not in any danger. Still, she had yet to respond or acknowledge his presence.

"What's wrong?"

She cocked his head in his direction and said with a slight smirk, "Nothing, William. Everything is fine."

"You're sure?"

"Quite."

"Well, then, we'd best get started as soon as possible." He gestured towards her room. "I'm afraid I require your assistance with the corset again."

"Oh," she replied distractedly, looking down briefly, "perhaps you should have some breakfast first?"

"I'd rather not risk a confrontation with your housekeeper." He gave her a puzzled look. "You said nothing about yourself. You must be hungry too."

"Yes, well...I need a moment or two to myself."

"Julia, what aren't you telling me?" he asked coming over to her side.

"Really, William, it's nothing you need concern yourself over."

"_Julia._"

She sighed and pulled back the blanket. Very matter of factly she said, "As you can see, William, I am simply experiencing some lingering effects of my salacious dreams about you."

Murdoch was mortified.

* * *

Back at the station house, they found none of the regular lads had come in yet. This suited them just fine because it gave them a chance to discuss what everyone's jobs would be for the day. At least, it _would_ have given them the chance except George had yet to come down from the second floor water closet. Brackenreid was just about ready to break the door down when George finally appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone stared at him, open mouthed, especially Brackenreid.

"Crabtree," Brackenreid said quietly in awed shock, finger pointing shakily, "what have you done to my face?"

George gave him a sheepish, slightly terrified look. "Do you like it, sir?"

Brackenreid's fists clenched and Murdoch prepared himself for holding the man back. He looked to Julia as well, who nodded that she understood what might be required of her.

"Do I like it?! Crabtree you daft bastard, you've shaved my prized moustache off! Why would I like _that_?!"

"I'm sorry, sir!" George exclaimed. "But I had to! It was driving me insane! I could _feel_ the hairs growing up my nose all night! I couldn't breathe!"

Brackenreid, or rather George looked more menacing than he had ever looked in his life, no trace of the goofball smile from the previous night.

"Now, sir," said Murdoch warily, "while it is regrettable your facial hair is no longer with us, I believe it is the least of our concerns right now and as such-"

"I'll kill you!" roared Brackenreid, lunging at himself.

Julia and Murdoch launched into action, each grabbing hold of one of his arms, before he did himself terrible injury.

"Let me go!" screamed Brackenried just a few inches from George, who had hobbled back a few paces in absolute terror. "Let me at the bastard!"

"Inspector," commanded Julia in his deep voice, "calm yourself! Are you really so intent on assaulting _yourself_?!"

Brackenreid struggled for a moment longer and then relaxed. "All right, all right! I see your point! Now let me go!"

They did so and after another murderous scowl at himself, he stomped into his office to pour himself a large drink.

Julia went over to George and put a hand to his forearm. "Are you all right, George?"

"Yes, sir-doctor, I believe I will be."

They left the inspector alone for a few minutes and then approached cautiously.

"All right, then," he grumbled from his chair, giving himself dark looks every couple of seconds, "what's our bloody plan of action for today? How do we find the bastard who did this to us?"

"Well, sir," said Murdoch, "I believe that continuing with this investigation is our best chance of locating him."

"Fine. Who will look into contacting Gilbert Fairfax's relatives?"

"I will, sir," said George out of habit, since this was his usual task.

"You can't, George," said Murdoch, "you're needed here."

"Sir?"

He gave Brackenreid an apologetic look. "I'm afraid that in order to keep up appearances... George will need to take control of the station house for the time being."

Brackenreid looked murderous again, quickly quelling the wonder on George's face. "No way in hell I'm letting him-"

"I'm sorry, sir, but you must."

"But he won't even know what the bloody hell he's doing! He'll run my station house into the ground in a matter of hours!"

"Actually, sir," said George bravely, "when you were in hospital and Detective Murdoch took over temporarily, I learned quite a bit from him about the inner workings of the job."

"Why'd you go and do _that_ for, Murdoch!?"

Murdoch shrugged. "He was curious."

The inspector hopped up to pour himself another drink. It was not yet seven in the morning. No one dared say anything to him though.

After a few calming sips he turned to face them and said, "All right, fine, bloody Crabtree gets to play Inspector for the day." George's eyes shined in anticipation. "Which still leaves the matter of contacting the relatives." Julia and Murdoch simply looked at him. "Fine, _I'll _contact them and you two go back to fiddling around with his goddamn organs. Bloody hell," he muttered to himself, taking another sip.

"Good morning!" said a cheerful voice from behind them. They all turned to find Mrs. Brackenreid in the back doorway, holding a basket. "My you folks are hard at work early today! I hope you were not up all night!" She looked to George. "I just wanted to make sure you were keeping up your strength, Thomas, so I thought I'd bring over some left overs from last night's dinner." She glared at Brackenreid as she passed by him, "I'm ashamed of you constable, drinking already."

They all tensed up as she walked over to George and gave him a kiss!

Murdoch noted the tumbler in Brackenreid's hand had cracked and now a trickle of blood was making it's way down his wrist.

Thankfully she pulled back quickly with a confused expression. Then her eyes widened as she properly took in her husband's appearance.

"Thomas, where has your moustache gotten to?" she asked, as if they could retrieve it somehow.

Julia nudged a surprised George subtly when he didn't respond.

"Oh, uh," he said puffing out his chest as if that's how he imagined Brackenreid behaved around his wife, "I decided it was time for a change Mrs.- Margaret."

Mrs. Brackenreid glanced around at everyone else. "May we have a moment alone please?"

Julia and Murdoch promptly left but Brackenreid wasn't budging.

"Constable, please go take your filthy habit somewhere else while I have a private word with my husband. And see to your hand while you're at it. You're dripping blood all over your inspector's floor!"

Brackenreid was looking murderous for the third time that morning.

"Uh, Margaret," said George, eyeing the inspector warily, "perhaps we should continue this conversation another time? This case is very pressing and we are on a bit of a deadline to solve it."

Mrs. Brackenreid frowned and touched his face. "Is that horrid Giles giving you a hard time again?"

"Something like that."

"Well, all right, but you're not off the hook yet about this moustache fiasco." She turned to leave but thought better of it. "Oh and don't forget to show up to the rehearsal dinner at five o'clock sharp."

"Rehearsal dinner?"

"Honestly, Thomas," she said rolling her eyes, "your best man's wedding on Saturday? The one we've been anticipating for years? That ringing any bells?"

"Oh right. I'll be sure to be there Margaret."

"See that you are or you'll be in even bigger trouble mister." After another forlorn look at the space above his lips and below his nose, she left. As soon as Mrs. Brackenreid was out of ear shot, Brackenreid rounded on George, and Murdoch and Julia made themselves handy just in case.

"Bloody well stay away from my wife, Crabtree!"

"Sir!" he hollered, waving his arms around wildly as if he were trying to take flight. "She kissed me! Not the other way around!"

"I don't want to hear your bloody excuses!" he said poking George hard in the chest. "It better not happen again!"

"Yes, sir!"


	6. Chapter 6

"Aha!" exclaimed Murdoch about an hour later, hitting his fist into the cluttered morgue desk and wincing afterwards, still unaccustomed to a daintier body.

"You've found a reference I take it?" Julia said with a smirk, as he attempted to cradle his hand unseen. She had been busy examining Gilbert Fairfax's organs further, so this was a relatively easy thing to accomplish.

"Indeed I have, Julia!"

"And?" she said, wiping her hands on her apron and coming over to his side.

"And according to Dr. Victor Gershwin*, this mirrored phenomenon can sometimes occur with identical twins!"

Julia's face lit up, mirroring his own. "How fascinating! It must be an extremely rare phenomenon or I surely would have heard of this before."

"It is. Dr. Gershwin specifically states in the journal that only a handful of other cases have ever been recorded."

Very bubbly, "To think that this has fallen into our hands, it's quite incredible!" Rather needlessly she added, "I must say, I am quite enthused, William!"

"Yes, I can see that," he added wryly to which she fake scowled at him.

"So," she said more soberly, "as the inspector would say," she put on her best approximation of his voice, "how does this knowledge bloody well help us Murdoch?"

Murdoch smiled and shook his head slightly. "Well, for one thing, Julia, we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man who fled from us was _not_ Gilbert Fairfax's identical twin."

"Yes, as far as I can recall, that man was at least a half a foot taller and even leaner than Mr. Fairfax."

"Were you able to account for his somewhat unorthodox appearance?"

"I believe so, William," she said leading him back around to the scattered body parts. She held up a familiar white bowl full of a large amount of a dried dark green substance. "Upon checking his stomach contents, I found it consisted entirely of vegetable matter, without a hint of anything heartier."

"Rather extreme form of vegetarianism."

"Or poverty."

"I don't think so, Julia, his clothing is too fine for that. And he had five dollars in his wallet."

"Not a robbery then."

"Not unless our mystery man scared the killer off before he could rob Mr. Fairfax."

There was a brief silence. "William, you said before that Mr. Fairfax likely knew his killer because his eyelids had been closed as a sign of respect." He nodded. "Well, what if it _wasn't_ respect but rather a case of being unnerved?"

Murdoch looked into his eyes and felt the usual hairs raise on the back of his neck. "You're thinking his twin brother killed him? Like Mycroft Grimsby did to Harcourt?"

"Just so. But this time we won't let Gilbert Fairfax's killer walk free."

They shared a smile.

"Julia? Detective?" wondered Emily's voice from nearby.

They turned to face the young woman giving them a puzzled expression.

"Ah, Emily," said Julia without thinking, eliciting a sharp raise of eyebrows, "I wasn't expecting you in today."

"Emily, you are feeling better I take it?" said Murdoch hastily, trying to divert his fiance's bumble.

"Yes, Julia," she said staring at Julia still. "Whatever ailment was going around seems to have been flushed out of my system." A slight pause. "Detective, why are you wearing my apron?"

Murdoch and Julia shared a look. "Uh, well..." said Julia.

"William was curious to learn the finer art of vivisection."

"Really?" said Emily skeptically. "After all these years you suddenly had the urge to learn how to disassemble a corpse?"

Murdoch didn't respond.

"Julia so rarely forays into your purview anymore, Dr. Grace," said Julia coming to his rescue, "and as such I thought I should learn from her while I had the chance."

This of course implied Murdoch had been snubbing Emily for years, just waiting for her to be ill enough to not show up for work so that Julia could teach him, and the younger doctor was quick to pick up on these facts and became a bit cold to Julia, instead focusing on Murdoch.

"Is this just a medical cadaver you've borrowed from the university then?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Emily," said Murdoch. "His name is Gilbert Fairfax and he was murdered."

After a brief, awkward interrogation from Julia's successor about the case, they finally managed to make their excuses and get out of there before their cover was completely blown. Their next step was to speak with Brackenreid to find out what headway had been made in contacting Fairfax's relatives.

"None," he said from the privacy of Murdoch's office. George was rather busy at the moment laying into Henry about the state of his desk. From the sounds of it, he was quite enjoying his role as the inspector. "It seems that his parents are deceased and he had no other kin."

"But what about his brother?" asked Julia.

"Brother?" Brackenreid said, furrowing his brow. "I didn't find any mention of a brother in the city archives."

"We have it on good authority that he has one," said Murdoch. "An identical twin in fact."

"If you say so, Murdoch."

"You are a bloody disgrace to this establishment!" came the clearly intelligible chastisement of George. "Now get out of my sight!"

"Bloody hell," said Brackenreid, glancing over at his office. "He's really laying it on thick, isn't he?"

Henry skulked over to his desk and began tidying it. It was barely out of order.

"Yes, he certainly is," said Murdoch, frowning.

"Constable Crabtree has always been an exuberant sort," said Julia. "In any case, how shall we proceed?"

A silence ensued while Murdoch had a mini brain blast. "The university."

"Come again, Murdoch?"

"There was a card in his wallet mentioning a Cadmus Labs. I've seen it before while gaining assistance on my various side projects. Never gone in there though as it was always restricted access."

"All right, let's go check this lab out. But first I need to have a quick word with Crabtree."

Brackenreid went into his office and closed the door. "What's got your knickers in a knot?"

George gave him a sly look before taking on the scowl he had previously. "Henry was making fun of your lack of mustache to the lads, sir, so I had to give him a good dressing down to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Right, well, I'm glad to see you've embraced your role as me...but maybe tone it down a bit from here on out? You don't want a mutiny on your hands."

"Sir."

The phone rang. They both looked to it. Neither moved.

"Crabtree, answer it."

"What if it's chief constable Giles?"

"What of it?"

"Well, what if he wants an update about something I'm not informed on?"

"Just answer it."

George gulped and picked up the phone. "Inspector Brackenreid." Instantly his expression relaxed. "I see...thank you very much for letting me know...good day." George looked to him. "That was Cromwell's. Your Cuban cigars have just arrived."

Brackenreid grinned. "About bloody time too!"

* * *

*** I made this guy up but the identical twin thing is accurate. Not sure if they knew this back then though.**


	7. Chapter 7

Cadmus Labs was a small complex nestled in the belly of University of Toronto. It was part of the physics department and it's doors were locked at all times with a sign stating it was restricted.

Murdoch knocked on the door in vain and then he went to go fetch the director of the department in the hopes that he would let them in without a search warrant.

"Bloody hell," grinned Brackenreid. "Still moves like a bloke doesn't he?"

"Yes," she said with a slight smirk, "he does come across as a rather ungainly lady." She cocked her head in his direction. "But I'm sure you would have moved splendidly yourself, inspector, considering all of your incredible acting ability."

"You're damn straight I would have!" he exclaimed. Then he caught her mildly amused expression and frowned. "Very funny, doctor."

There was a slight quiet between them, except for the chirping of birds, rustle of leaves and distant voices.

"How are you handling being a man? Must be very disorienting."

"Not at all, inspector. I'm finding I quite enjoy it." Brackenreid looked at her funny. "Breathing freely is an utter delight. That coupled with all the respect I command by simply walking into a room is wonderful. I could be a blithering idiot and everyone would still look upon me as the greatest genius to ever live simply because of my gender. Women do not constantly offer to assist me with every task I perform, nor do they take my hand at every opportunity in order to kiss it in feigned greeting. And they certainly don't ply me with frivolous, demeaning compliments because they think I want to hear them." She caught his eye. "Now I understand why you said I wouldn't be able to handle it way back when. You're right, inspector, it's _very_ difficult being a man."

"Bloody hell," he grumbled and made a pathetic excuse to put some distance between them.

Julia smiled in a self satisfied way.

* * *

The director, Professor Elias Marsh, was just exiting his office when Murdoch approached him.

"Excuse me, professor, but I was wondering if you could help me with a pressing matter."

The relatively attractive older man eyed him up and down in a way Murdoch did not care for. "What is it my dear?" Marsh asked, taking his hand and kissing it. "How can I be of service to such a lovely creature?"

Murdoch glowered, whipped his hand away and responded, "My colleagues and I require your assistance. We need you to grant us access to Cadmus Labs."

The professor was staring at him and then seemed to snap out of it. "Cadmus Labs you say? I'm sorry but I can't allow just anyone in there." He gave him a searching look. "Who did you say you were again?"

"I'm Dr. Ogden and I'm here with two other members of the constabulary. We're investigating a murder."

"A murder?" Marsh said appalled. "Who's murder?"

"Gilbert Fairfax's."

"Bert is dead?" Marsh muttered face turning pale, almost dropping his briefcase. "Why that's horrible!"

"Indeed, sir. I'm sorry for your loss...I noticed you used a colloquial term. Were you well acquainted then?"

"As well acquainted as us studious types ever are." The professor caught his eye, "Always off in our heads you see."

"Yes, I'm familiar with that particular dilemma. Do you have any idea who could have killed Mr. Fairfax?"

"Professor. He was a professor. Him and Ernie."

"Ernie?"

"Ernie Duncan. They were friends and colleagues. Inseparable really."

"And do you know where I might find Professor Duncan?"

"If he's not in his laboratory then I would suggest the Astronomy Department."

"I see. Once more I must ask you, do you have any idea who might have wanted to do Professor Fairfax harm?"

"No, not at all. Well actually..." Marsh said, scratching his chin stubble.

"Yes?"

"Bert and Ernie had a bit of a rivalry with another pair of researchers from our department. Professor Swan and Hook were frequently caught trying to snoop on Bert and Ernie's experiments and occasionally even attempted to sabotage them. That's why I was forced to lock the area off. To put an end to such tom foolery."

"Why not just fire them?"

"While juvenile, they are extremely gifted and it would have been a waste to lose such talent." Marsh looked at him funnily. "It's strange really, but I don't know why I just told _you_ all of that. I mean, shouldn't I have given a statement to the police and not a doctor playing detective?"

Murdoch stiffened at that comment. "I _am_ a member of the constabulary, sir."

"As the pathologist you mean?"

"No, I most certainly do not mean that. I work with Detective Murdoch on a variety of cases, ranging from missing persons to murders. Usually I profile suspects for him."

Smirking, Marsh said, "You can't expect me to believe that. Women aren't allowed to work for the constabulary."

"_This_ woman does," he said proudly, jutting out his chin.

Marsh just smirked further and Murdoch felt like punching yet another man. Murdoch began to marvel at Julia's restraint and the fact that she hadn't amassed piles of victims by this point in her life. Thankfully Julia and Brackenreid showed up right then.

"What's bloody taking so long?"

"Everything all right here, doctor?" said Julia warily, noticing her fiance's rigid posture.

"Fine, detective, it's fine. Professor Marsh was just about to let us into the laboratory."

"I was?" he said. Then he glanced at Julia and Brackenreid and the handcuffs danging from the constable's side. "Yes, I suppose I am."

* * *

Cadmus labs was one of those extremely untidy, cluttered places that gave off the appearance of being ransacked when it actually wasn't. Only someone who worked there every day and knew were everything was could have said for certain though. And no one seemed to be working there.

"Odd that Ernie is not in," said Marsh after turning on the lights. "He lived and breathed his work." Somewhat timidly he turned to them and said, "You don't think he had something to do with Bert's death?"

"It's too soon to say," said Murdoch. The four of them wandered amongst the piles of books, equipment and chalkboards. Murdoch observed one of them with interest. "What are these calculations about, professor?" There were delineations for speed and time but nothing else he recognized.

Marsh came up to his side. "Oh those old things. They've been there for as long as I can remember. It's embarrassing to admit but I myself can't make heads or tails of them. Bert and Ernie created this theorem themselves, something to do with space travel."

Brackenreid, Julia and him shared a look over the stacks of things.

"Space travel, you say?" said Julia. "Could you elaborate?"

"Well, they've been obsessed with the idea ever since I've known them. They were even in the process of building yet another prototype. I have my doubts about this one as well. Allow me to show you what I mean."

Marsh led them through the maze of papers, books and random half finished projects, and into a side room with a high ceiling. Various tools and bits of scrap metal were scattered all over the place but in the centre of the space was a silver cylindrical object about ten feet tall with a five foot diameter. All in all, it just looked like a giant tin can.

"Where's the propulsion system?" Murdoch asked after walking around the entire thing.

"Over there," Marsh said, pointing to a hunk of junk in the corner. Murdoch gave it a dubious look. "Like I said, I have my doubts."

Brackenreid had opened the hatch up and poked his head in. "Bloody tight quarters for a man."

Marsh smiled. "It's supposed to be able to hold two men."

"That's not bloody likely!" laughed Brackenreid. "Two dogs more like!" He thought of Athena. "Or a pair of monkeys!"

"Have they succeeded in achieving flight in any of these models?" asked Julia as she tapped on the outer shell, eliciting a hollow sound.

"Marginally once or twice, but nothing to write home about."

Murdoch didn't see anything else of interest here. "Professor Marsh, what else were they working on? Anything to do with the mind or the brain?"

Marsh looked at him pityingly, as if him being a woman meant he was not too bright. "They were engineers and physicists, doctor. Not psychiatrists or biologists."

"Yes, but perhaps they delved off into another arena of study?" said Julia.

"I can't imagine that. They were far too obsessed with getting these space crafts to work to spend any time on anything else."

On the way out, Brackenreid snatched a photograph peeking out of a dusty book. "Doctor, Murdoch, take a look at this."

They did. It was a picture of two men standing in a field somewhere in front of what appeared to be a rectangular version of their spaceship. "That's Gilbert Fairfax," said Julia.

"And that's the man from the alley," said Murdoch. He held it up to Marsh. "Who is that man?" he asked, having a pretty good idea already.

"Why, Ernie of course. One of their first attempts at flight I believe."

"And where was this picture taken?" said Brackenreid.

"I haven't the foggiest, constable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lecture to give. Please find whoever did this to poor Bert."

* * *

The trio split up and went around to the different science departments in an attempt to learn where Professor Duncan obtained the device he used on them. None of his peers seemed to know anything and no one seemed to be lying.

"So where the bloody hell did he get it from, Murdoch?" Brackenreid asked as they left the university grounds.

"I don't know, sir, but I believe it is high time we found him."


	8. Chapter 8

Since Brackenreid's body apparently had a bladder the size of a peanut, George once again found himself coming out of the water closet that morning. For the third time that day he was heading to the inspector's office. This time someone said, "Inspector."

Oblivious to the summons, he sat down at his desk and continued to pour over all of the open cases Brackenreid was overseeing. There were three counts of excessive domestic violence, one count of horse theft, a gentleman's quarrel over a lady, and another over damaged property. George was determined to be up to date in case the chief constable decided to telephone him or stop by.

Someone knocked at the door and this time he noticed they were trying to get his attention.

"Ruby!" he said without thinking, jumping up. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought that obvious," she replied, rather surprised herself at the unusual familiarity. "The long awaited for wedding of course. You wouldn't happen to know where my sister is, would you?"

"Out on a case," he said after a protracted moment, regaining his senses. He didn't know what it was about Ruby but she had always left him uneasy and prone to making a fool of himself.

Ruby smirked. "Still can't quite believe you allowed her to join the ranks of the boys in blue. It's very modern of you, inspector and I sincerely commend your forward thinking."

George smiled. "Well, to tell the truth, Miss Ogden, I didn't have much to do with the matter. It was mostly between Detective Murdoch and Chief Constable Giles. As to how the detective swayed the chief, I still don't know. But I'm glad he succeeded because the detective is never happier than when he's working side by side with your sister. And when he's happy, the whole station house seems to get infected so that it's a joy to come into work everyday."

Ruby seemed amused. "That was very heartfelt and sincere, inspector. I'm touched by your agreeable sensibilities."

He realized the inspector wouldn't have gushed like that to a virtual stranger and suddenly he was flustered and offered her a drink, to which she raised an eyebrow.

"Though I have nothing against a morning imbibing, I must decline and be on my way. Do let Jules know I'm in town when she returns."

George jerkily nodded once and she left. He sighed deeply and sat back down. A few moments later Emily made herself known and he jumped up again. She eyed him strangely.

"Are you all right, inspector? You look unwell. Though I must admit that I think the change you made suits you quite well."

"That's what I thought!" he blurted out, startling her. He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Em...Dr. Grace." She frowned at his slip and he continued on with, "I'm glad to see you are faring better today. The constabulary is just not the same without you."

"Thank you, inspector," she said giving him another strange look.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, fiddling with the papers on his desk.

"I was hoping to speak with George...but I take it he's not here right now?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I'll be sure to let him know you stopped by for him." Emily didn't respond and seemed lost in thought. "Doctor?"

"Who was that woman I passed on the way in?"

"Oh," he said nervously for some reason, "that was Ruby Ogden."

"That's what I thought."

"Have you two not met before?"

"I've only ever seen her in old family photographs. She looks quite different now but her resemblance to Julia tipped me off."

Another silence. Emily seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle. "Doctor?" he prompted again.

"Well, I best be off. I have some paperwork to catch up on."

_What was all that about? _he wondered. His next thought was, _I need a drink._

* * *

Having obtained an address from one of Bert and Ernie's colleagues, they found themselves outside of a three storey boarding house close to the university grounds that both Duncan and Fairfax resided in. The men even seemed to have apartments across the hall from one another. Murdoch thought that level of co-dependence was unhealthy.

They searched around Duncan's place for a few minutes but didn't find anything out of the ordinary, unless you counted having barely any furnishings or personal possessions as out of the ordinary. Upon leaving Duncan's place they heard a rustling coming from Fairfax's.

The door was slightly ajar and Murdoch nodded to Brackenreid who kicked the door all the way open with a loud bang.

"Police!"

Ernie Duncan scrambled to the open window but Brackenreid launched himself at the man and tackled him to the floor, sending a notebook flying. The man frantically squirmed, hitting Brackenreid in the face with his elbow, cracking his nose and sending a cascade of blood down his front.

"Bloody hell!" he moaned, clutching at it. "Get him Murdoch!"

Both Murdoch and Julia went after Duncan, but the man grabbed the notebook and dived out of the third floor window!

"My goodness!" cried Julia in alarm. "Did he just commit suicide?"

Murdoch rushed to the window and peered down to find Ernie picking himself up off of the grass and limping away. "No, he's still alive."

"After the bugger!" hollered Brackenreid, as the blood continued to leak through his finger tips.

Julia tossed the inspector a hanky and then dashed down the stairs after Murdoch. An elderly couple were blocking their way near the bottom and Murdoch hollered, "Out of the way!" They weren't moving fast enough for his tastes so he launched himself over the railing (skirts flying) to get around them.

"Why I never!" said the woman of the pair. "Kids these days!"

Julia followed suit and the old people just gawked at them long after they had left the building.

By the time they had made it outside, they had lost sight of Duncan but took off in the direction they had last seen him heading. Dashing around a corner Murdoch called behind him, "I think I've spotted him!"

Duncan's head whirled around at those words, and while he was distracted, he was clipped by a bicyclist and dropped the notebook again. This time it landed under a fruit food cart. A disoriented Duncan clumsily dropped to his knees in order to try and fish it out but knew he didn't have enough time before Murdoch was on him so took off instead.

Out of breath they were nevertheless closing in on the injured man when a constable tackled Julia to the ground! She cried out and instinctively Murdoch whipped his head back and skidded to a halt.

"Constable what on earth did you just do?!" he yelled outraged at the young man.

Julia was telling him to get off of her in a stern matter. The constable from another station house looked up at him in confusion.

"Do you know this man?"

"Of course I know that man! She-he is my fiance!"

"Begging your pardon, sir!" he said getting off of Julia hastily, looking mortified. "I thought you were trying to attack her!"

Julia's hands were scraped and bleeding and Murdoch felt like pummelling the idiot constable. Something about being in her body made him far more moody than he was accustomed to. Perhaps it was simply from seeing the world from a different perspective?

"Are you all right, Julia?" he asked taking her hands to inspect them further, not caring that the constable could overhear him.

"Never mind this, William!" she replied. "Where did Duncan go?"

Murdoch looked all around. "He's long gone I'm afraid." Murdoch scowled at the bewildered constable. "You're lucky I have more important matters to attend to constable, or I would be reporting you to your superior for assaulting a detective _and _impeding a murder investigation!"

* * *

Back at Duncan's place, the inspector had finally managed to quell the blood flow from his broken nose. He glanced up at them from the bed he was sitting on when they arrived. One look at their dishevelled appearances told him all he needed to know.

"That's one slippery nutter," he muttered to himself. Aloud he said, "What happened?"

"We had a mishap with a constable."

Brackenreid closed his eyes in consternation. "Please tell me it wasn't one of our own."

Murdoch was still fuming so he didn't respond. Julia shook her head and then opened the slightly dirty notebook Duncan had dropped. She flipped through it, a frown creasing her brow more and more with each page.

"What is that?" asked Brackenreid. "A journal? More calculations?"

"I don't know. I can't make out what it says."

"Another language?"

"Yes and no, inspector." He looked at her funnily. "I think it's a code of some sort."

Murdoch came to life a bit at the mention of a code and asked to take a look for himself. As he perused it, Julia examined the inspector's nose. He hissed when she applied pressure to it.

"It's definitely broken."

"Yes," he said glowering, "thank you for that assessment, doctor."

"Look on the bright side, inspector. You've now gotten your revenge on George."

Brackenreid smiled evilly. "Oh, I don't think the score is settled quite yet. I had something more...public in mind."

"Now really inspector," she said, hands on hips, "are you really going to be so childish about the loss of some facial hair? It will grow back."

"That's not the point, doctor."

"Then what is the point?" He didn't respond. "Well?"

"Fine! I'll tell you! Margaret and I had an arrangement. I would never shave my mustache and she would allow me to invite the boys over for a drink and a smoke once a month."

Julia laughed. "She must really like your mustache then."

Very seriously Brackenreid said, "It's the reason she married me." Julia snorted some more and he scowled at her. "Well, Murdoch," he said, trying to ignore her bizarre sounding merriment, "what do you make of that?"

"Other than the fact that it's in the same hand as the writing on the chalkboard...nothing, sir." He snapped the notebook closed, "Absolutely nothing."

"Dammit! Now what the bloody hell are we supposed to do?"

Murdoch smiled faintly. "Now, sir? Now we pay a visit to The Puzzler Society."


	9. Chapter 9

They were in a carriage on their way to The Puzzler Society on the outskirts of town. Julia and Murdoch sat together on one side, holding hands, and Brackenreid had the bench facing them. By now his broken nose and the black and blue area surrounding it looked absolutely dreadful, so that the two of them preferred looking out their respective windows and at the passing rural scenery.

With nothing else to do, they got to talking about the case.

"I still don't believe he is our killer," said Murdoch.

"If he's so bloody innocent, then why does he keep risking life and limb to get away from us?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Whatever the reason," said Julia, "he is clearly highly motivated to do so."

"I'll say!" said Brackenreid. "He's a complete nutter jumping out the window like that! Reminds me of that bloke who kept giving us the slip a few years back."

"Which bloke, sir? There have been several."

"The one who socked me in the gut and thought he was a time traveller chosen by God to save the innocent. _That_ bloke."

"Sir, that was all just part of an elaborate scheme designed to make us _believe_ that the time machine was real. He wasn't actually insane."

"In any case, it worked didn't it? You yourself were fooled!" Brackenreid eyed him. "I never did understand how you were roped in so completely."

Murdoch shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Julia gave his hand a squeeze. She of course knew the reason and was grateful for it. If Professor Harms hadn't led him to believe that they had a future together, he would not have been so bold at the New Years Eve party and the rebuilding of their relationship would have taken that much longer, if indeed it had happened at all. And now just when they were on the verge of truly starting that vision together, they were stuck in each others bodies!

Could they never catch a break?

* * *

Sam Carver was busy sweeping the side stairs of the club when they arrived. He seemed pleased to see George again, though wary about the reason for his visit.

"Constable?" he asked a bit shyly, stopping his work. "What brings you out my way again?"

Murdoch handed Brackenreid the notebook, which he opened and held up. "Sam, we need your help. We're a bit stumped again. And you're just the man for the job."

"Oh," said Sam quietly, looking away, "I'm not so sure about that."

"What are you afraid of?" said Julia, astutely.

Sam glanced around him as if checking to make sure they were not being listened to. "Well, detective, it's just the last time I helped you...I got into a fair bit of trouble with my boss. He didn't like the time I took off from work. Threatened to fire me if it happened again."

"Daft bastard!" yelled Brackenreid, causing Sam to give him a strange look. "You were assisting the constabulary with a murder investigation! A murder committed on _his_ property! He's lucky we didn't shut this damn place down!"

"Constable, _please_," said Sam nervously, looking around himself again. "I can't afford to lose this job."

"Mr. Carver," said Murdoch sincerely, "you have my assurances that your position here will be secure if you assist us with this matter. If needs be, I'll have a talk with your employer to ensure this."

"No disrespect, ma'am, but Mr. Oakley ain't too fond of women. I think he thinks this is some sort of Mason lodge."

_Oh he does, does he_? thought Julia annoyed.

And then to add the nail to the coffin. "He wasn't too pleased when your coroner was let in either."

"I should very much like to have a word with this Mr. Oakley," said Julia, striding into the building in a confident manner befitting William's natural movements.

_Oh dear_, thought Murdoch, heading in after her.

Now it was just Brackenreid and Sam. The inspector did not have the same rapport that George had had with him so the silence between them quickly grew awkward, and as such, Sam went back to work.

* * *

"Mr. Oakley, I presume," said Julia after ascending the staircase to the upper level and into a well furnished office.

"Yes," said a well dressed grey haired man from behind his desk. "And who might you be?"

He eyed Murdoch with obvious displeasure but didn't say anything.

Julia pulled back her suit jacket to reveal the well worn badge beneath. "I am Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary."

"Oh, you again," he said unimpressed. "Now what do you want?"

Even though she spoke pleasantly enough, Murdoch could tell she was quite angry. Her eyes and body language were positively dangerous. "My colleagues and I require your caretakers assistance on a rather time sensitive matter. As such, we shall be taking him with us when we leave here."

Mr. Oakley frowned. "What gives you the right to just waltz in here and relieve me of my staff?"

"A murder investigation."

"It wasn't on my property this time so I don't see that it's any of my concern. Why should I allow this disruption?"

"Because if you don't Mr. Oakley," she said advancing on his position, "I'm afraid I will have to arrest you for impeding our investigation. Something I'm sure your _gentleman_ friends wouldn't look too kindly upon."

They glared at each other for a time until he relented. "All right fine. You can take him. But who's going to clean my club in his absence?"

"I'm sure one day won't do your _lovely_ establishment much harm." She turned to leave and then thought better of it. "Oh and Mr. Oakley, if I should happen to hear of Mr. Carver's dismissal from your estimable employ, I should be very put out. And trust me, sir, you don't want to see that happen."

To be sure, her method was much more heavy handed than his would have been, but it was nonetheless very effective and Murdoch was a bit afraid of her at the moment. He kept picturing her wearing the inspector's black glove dripping with blood.

She marched up to Sam and said, "It's all settled, Mr. Carver. You're free to assist us. And to make it worth your while, I will personally give you ten dollars."

This was most likely half his wages for the month so it was no wonder his eyes bulged out of his head.

* * *

Settled in Murdoch's office, Sam really got down to business at the central work table. Just like in the carriage ride back to the precinct, the man simply stared at the notebook without attempting to write anything down. Normally this yielded the answer eventually, but this time things weren't going so smoothly. This time he was just as stumped as the rest of them. However, he promised to keep on at it.

George held a conference in the inspector's office a quarter after one. He kept absentmindedly touching the inspector's nose and wincing, as if he could feel the pain himself.

"What are we going to do if Sam can't figure it out?" he asked the trio. "Or if he does, what if he can't decode the entire thing in time? That was a fair bit more than a single puzzle."

"From what I could tell," said Murdoch, "the notebook was written in a constant manner. It was the same code throughout. So if he can crack the basics, we should be able to decipher the rest of it fairly quickly."

"And then what?" asked Brackenreid. "For all we know there's nothing helpful in there."

"I highly doubt that, inspector," said Julia. "Duncan wouldn't have risked his life for nothing. There's clearly something of value in there."

"Yes," said George, "but about what? Himself, his friend..." George's eyes lit up, making the inspector look like a little boy, "or some secret space travel tips?"

"Don't even start, Crabtree," warned Brackenreid.

George pouted and crossed his arms. "I just think it highly unfair that the one time space travel is part of our investigation, I wasn't there!"

"Trust me, George," said Julia with a smirk, "you didn't miss much."

"If you say so, doctor," he said with a sigh.

"George," said Murdoch, pulling out the photograph from Cadmus Labs, "we still need to track down Duncan. I want you to blow this up and then distribute it to the constables. Tell them locating him is their priority from now on."

George left them to complete his task, eliciting a few confused looks from the lads as he headed into the dark room alone.

"Now what do we do?" said Brackenreid. "Just sit on our rumps until something gives?"

"Not exactly," said Julia, eyeing Murdoch. "It's looking more and more likely that we won't have succeeded in returning to our own bodies by five o'clock."

"At which time we will be surrounded by friends and loved ones intimately aware of all of our little quirks," said Murdoch, aghast.

She nodded. "So I would strongly suggest we study up on the people we are impersonating."

"Easy enough for you two," said Brackenreid, getting up to prepare himself a drink. "You're two peas in a pod. I've got bloody Crabtree who was very likely born in one!"

Murdoch cleared his throat as the inspector's hand touched the stopper. "Sir, that is not your alcohol for the time being. You can't just help yourself whenever you want."

"Bloody hell," he scowled, slinking back into a chair. "This is a bloody nightmare!"


	10. Chapter 10

"All right lads!" boomed George in front of the assembled constables of station house four. He was holding up a decent sized photograph of Ernie Duncan. "This is Professor Ernie Duncan! He is a person of interest in a murder investigation! He needs to be apprehended as soon as possible! But be warned! He's a slippery devil who has already escaped police custody twice! You must keep all your wits about yourselves with this one lads! Do whatever it takes to take him down but do not kill him! I repeat, do not kill him!"

The men started to leave but he stopped them. "And where do you think you're going? I'm not finished yet!"

_Uh oh_, thought Brackenreid. _Now what?_

"In order for you to be properly prepared against this suspect," he said pacing, "I believe it necessary to tell you a shocking truth." George dramatically turned to face them, "Professor Duncan is very likely a Venusian!"

Dead silence and puzzled looks. Henry snickered and Brackenreid groaned.

"It explains a lot as far as I'm concerned. For instance, he seems to be impervious to grievous physical harm, which of course is accounted for by Venusian's tougher skin. A tougher skin acquired due to the much harsher atmospheric conditions..."

"Oh great," muttered Henry, "it's the lake monster all over again." Henry smirked and glanced at Brackenreid sideways. "He's been spending way too much time around you, George. You're starting to rub off on him."

"Furthermore, Professor Duncan has in his possession a device capable of-"

"_Sir_," said Brackenreid sharply.

"Crabtree," George said glaring at him, "what have I told you about interrupting me!?"

Brackenreid grit his teeth and said, "Not to do it...sir."

"Glad to see there's still something working in that oversized melon of yours!" More snickers. "Now as I was saying-"

"Sir, with all due respect, you're starting to sound like a nutter. Perhaps you should lay down for a bit?"

Gleeful smiles between the younger constables. They had a very good idea of what was coming next.

"That's it Crabtree!" George said, pointing the cane at him menacingly. "I'm going to-"

"Sir," said Julia, who had stuck her head outside of Murdoch's office, "your presence is required immediately."

Some of the lads faces fell and others looked relieved that one of their own wasn't going to be manhandled in front of them.

George scowled and glanced at the men in turn. "Well what are you lot standing around for?! Go find the bastard!"

Everyone scattered (except for Brackenreid) and George hobbled into Murdoch's office.

"What the bloody hell do you want?!"

Murdoch and Julia just stared at him open mouthed. Sam was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice this exclamation or the proceeding altercation. Brackenreid stormed in a moment later and roughly grabbed George by the collar.

"Are you completely daft man! What the hell was that all about?! You just made me look like a complete imbecile!"

George finally seemed to realize who he was again and made an apologetic face to the inspector. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what came over me!"

"I think, sir," said Murdoch, "this was simply a case of George becoming overzealous in his role as you again, albeit with his own..." he gestured vaguely, "unique flair for the unusual."

Brackenreid sighed, let go of George and said, "Bloody hell." Then he noticed Sam's presence. "Did he just hear-"

"No, inspector," said Julia, "he's off in his own little world." She caught Murdoch's eye. "Not unlike another genius I know."

"So," said Brackenreid, "what did you need me for?" Murdoch and Julia just gave him a look. "You didn't. You just wanted to stop old bugalugs from divulging our little secret."

George continued to look sheepish.

"It's almost two o'clock," said Murdoch. "You and George should take the next three hours to hone your impersonations of each other.

"Is that really necessary?" said Brackenreid, eyeing George in distaste.

"Considering that unfortunate display, I'd say it was imperative."

* * *

"No, William," Julia said laughing, "that's still not quite right. It's more like this." She walked along the length of his office and turned around to face him. "Go on, try again."

Murdoch walked towards her and she shook her head in amusement. He became a bit irritated.

"I don't understand what I am doing wrong. I'm walking exactly like you."

"No, you're not, William. You're moving with too much swagger. You need to hold yourself more upright and ladylike and don't sway your arms so much. Just let the corset aid your movements. Don't try to fight against its restraint."

"I don't see how one could," he muttered to himself. "All right, Julia, I'll try to take your advice into consideration this time."

He walked away from her and back towards his desk. "Much better, William, much better!"

"Why thank you, detective," he said with a smirk and an attempted curtsy.

Julia burst out laughing when he almost fell over (if not for the desk he would have). For a moment they thought they had broken Sam's intense concentration as indicated by a slight movement on his part but then came to the conclusion that they hadn't.

* * *

In the inspector's office, George and Brackenreid were briefly going over their respective backgrounds and making sure that each other knew all the basic things that they should know about themselves.

"How many aunts do I have?" asked George from the inspector's seat.

"I don't bloody know!" George just looked at him. "Thirty?"

"No, sir," George said shaking his head exasperatedly, with a small smile, "I only have fourteen. Their names are as follows, Aunt Amaryllis, Aunt Aster, Aunt Azalea, Aunt Begonia, Aunt Briony, Aunt Clematis, Aunt Dahlia, Aunt Hyacinth, Aunt Iris, Aunt Ivy, Aunt Marigold, Aunt Nettle, Aunt Petunia and Aunt Primrose."

George had said that all in one breath and the inspector was impressed. Of course, he wasn't going to let that on.

"Bloody hell, Crabtree! I'm never going to be able to remember all that!"

"Well, I suppose it's not likely to come up," George said, hand under his chin in a contemplative manner, eyes squinty. "Just make sure not to mention them at all."

"Yes, because my first instinct would be to do that," he grumbled to himself.

"And what is my favourite colour, sir?" Brackenreid huffed. "Green, sir. I've been told that green suits me very well. Sir!" George exclaimed excitedly, "do you think we'll ever get new constable uniforms?" Brackenreid just scowled at him. "Uh, anyway, what's _your_ favourite colour, sir?"

Brackenreid slapped himself in the face and yelped in pain.

* * *

Brackenreid headed over to Yonge and Bloor in order to pick up Dr. Grace. Selfishly he wished Crabtree had never gotten back together with her. It was going to be very strange to escort a woman who was not his wife to his best man's wedding rehearsal! But there was nothing for it, except of course telling her the truth...unfortunately the four of them had decided they would only resort to that extreme if absolutely necessary.

Dressed in Crabtree's finest civilian attire, he approached the constable's sweetheart's door with trepidation, bearing violets that George had made him bring. After a deep breath which hurt a lot, he knocked.

A few moments later Dr. Grace opened the door. She was wearing one of her patented pink dresses that he personally had never cared for very much.

"Dr- Emily," he said, annoyed at his slip already, "you look lovely."

"Thank you, George, you look very-" She took one look at him and placed a hand to his chest. He did his best not to back away. "Oh my! What happened?! Is this why you didn't stop by my morgue earlier?"

"Yes, that's exactly the reason, Emily," he said wondering what she was talking about. "As for my nose, well, I got a little too friendly with a suspect we've been after today. Blo-occupational hazard I'm afraid."

"Oh dear," she said touching the tip of his nose gently. "Does it hurt horribly?"

"I'll live," he said with a crooked grin. She smiled back. "Here," he said holding out the flowers, "these are for you."

"They're beautiful, George," she said taking them, "thank you very much." Emily leaned over to kiss him and he turned his head at the last second so that it landed on his cheek instead. She gave him a puzzled look. He pointed to his nose and she nodded that she understood.

After Dr. Grace put the flowers in water, he held out his arm to her and they made their way to the rehearsal dinner. The closer they got to the rehearsal, the tighter her grip on his bicep became. Being married for over a decade, he knew the tell tale signs that all was not right in the world. Therefore, he also knew he would regret the following question but asked anyway.

"Is everything all right, Emily?"

"Yes, of course," she said with a forced smile, "why wouldn't it be?"

"Your god- death grip on my arm begs to differ."

She bit her lip. "It's nothing really. I'm sure I'm just being silly." Brackenreid just continued to stare at her sideways. She sighed. "Well, if you _must_ know, George, I'm finding myself a bit anxious about meeting Miss Ogden."

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"It's just...well...she has quite the reputation and well...it is my understanding that you and she have a...history together."

_Goddammit! I knew I shouldn't have asked!_

Summoning his acting spirit anew, "We never courted if that's what you're worried about."

Brackenreid wasn't sure that this was true but needed to say something comforting to her.

"You haven't?" she said quietly, disbelieving. "But Julia made it sound as though you had."

"We've known each other for years, it's true, but we've never been more than acquaintances, Emily. She was always too busy chasing her next lead to get involved with me. So much so that I haven't even seen her in ages. I barely even remember what she looks like!"

Dr. Grace looked at him pointedly. "And you're not just saying this to make me feel better are you?"

"Of course not, Emily. When have I ever lied to you?"

That seemed to satisfy her and she snuggled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

_Bloody hell! This is going to be a very long evening!_


	11. Chapter 11

"Harry?" said Murdoch in surprise upon entering the church.

His father was looking quite respectable for a change and had even slicked back what hair he had remaining to him. Thankfully he was either too far away or too deaf to have heard this girlish exclamation and continued to observe the stained glass windows.

Murdoch looked to Julia for explanation.

"I thought it prudent that he should be present at our wedding," Julia whispered. "He is after all the only parent left to us."

"Yes, but couldn't you have warned me about this?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise..." she said apologetically. "And then I simply forgot to tell you after our...transformation. Don't worry, William, I'm sure I can handle your father. The more pressing concern will be-"

"What are you two conspiring about so seriously?" asked Ruby from directly behind them.

They both closed their eyes in consternation and then slowly turned around to greet her.

"Ruby," said Murdoch first, somewhat awkwardly embracing her. "It's been too long."

"It's wonderful to see you again, Jules," she smiled, and winked and Julia, "especially considering the circumstances."

"Yes," he said, grinning at Julia, "it's certainly been a long time coming."

"I'm so very happy for the both of you," Ruby said embracing Julia in a way that Murdoch's body had never experienced from her before. "I always knew you were the one for my Jules, William. I'm glad you've finally realized that as well."

Ruby linked arms with the two of them and looked further into the church. "I can't believe I am almost the first one here! Fashionable women should always do their best not to arrive early. It's very poor form to do so. Clearly my well bred etiquette is failing me in my old age." Julia rolled her eyes, something that her sister noticed but didn't comment on. "Anyway, shall we go say hello to that distinguished looking gentleman?"

"That gentleman is my-" said Murdoch.

"Father," said Julia quickly.

"Well, I can see where you get your good looks from, William."

Two out of three of them approached Harry with trepidation. Finally he took notice of them.

"Willie!" Harry said happily, shaking Julia's hand enthusiastically. "I can't believe my little boy is getting married!" He sobered up a bit. "And I'm sure glad you decided to invite me. I know things between us haven't always been-"

"It's all in the past, father," said Julia.

"Thank you, son," Harry said, with a possible tear in his eye.

Harry and Ruby were briefly introduced and then he took Murdoch's hand and kissed it!

He did his best not to make a face and Julia did her best not to laugh.

This greeting was short lived as Emily and Brackenreid had just arrived.

"Oh dear, constable," said Ruby upon initial sight. "You do have a knack for getting into trouble, don't you?"

"How right you are, Miss Ogden. Nice to see you again."

"You as well." Ruby turned to his companion. "Dr. Emily Grace, is it not?"

"Indeed it is. How did you know?"

Ruby waved a hand. "I'm a reporter. It's my job to know such things."

Once a harassed looking George and annoyed looking Margaret made an appearance, it was time to commence the rehearsal. Although the wedding rehearsal went smoothly enough, it did little to actually prepare them for the big day tomorrow. This was of course because most of them weren't in their proper bodies.

* * *

Everyone was seated at a solitary round table and had just been served their meals. Ruby had purposefully taken a spot beside Brackenreid. Almost the first thing she did was enquire about his aunts.

Brackenreid choked on the wine he had been sipping and Emily thumped him on the back a few times when he continued to cough. Some time after that she asked if wedding bells were in their future as well. That led to a fair amount of babbling that may or may not have been intentional. Emily began to glower and George thought it necessary to intervene on the inspector's behalf.

"I think what the...what Crabtree is trying to say is that they are just taking things one day at a time." George caught Brackenreid's eye, a bit peeved at the fool he had made him look. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir," said Brackenreid with a twinkle in his eyes, "that's precisely what I meant."

Murdoch cleared his throat and Julia tapped her glass with a spoon. "I would like to make a toast." She stood up, glass in hand and everyone looked at her. "Julia and I have been through a lot together," she gazed down at him and took his hand. "Dare I say more than most couples? The journey has been long and difficult and there was more than one time I thought we weren't meant to be." _Like right now. _"But somehow against all odds we found our way back to each other." _And into each others bodies_. "I feel truly blessed for having Wil-Julia," she looked out across the table, to see her sister frown at her mistake, "and all of you, in my life. Without you, we wouldn't be here. Without you, we would have perished long ago." _Thanks to that damn devil!_ "So from the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

"Hear, hear!" came the response and clinking of glasses.

Julia nudged Murdoch and he stood up and said, "I too would like to make a toast. Uh, well, I just wanted to thank the two of you...Margaret and Emily...for your valiant assistance with the wedding preparations. As I'm sure you both know, such things are often beyond my comprehension...so all of your help was very much appreciated. Here's to you...girls."

Emily said, "Our pleasure, Julia."

"It was the least I could do after you helped my Thomas get better."

More clinking of glasses.

Some light conversation buzzed through the church's dining hall as feasting recommenced.

Ruby was seated to the right of Murdoch. She turned to him and whispered, "You're being rather quiet, Jules. I hope you're not having second thoughts. Though it would be beyond me why you would."

"I'm fine, Ruby." He glanced at Julia. "We're fine. Everything is fine."

"Now I know something is wrong," Ruby said, suspiciously. "The only time one says they are fine that many times is when they are not."

"You're imagining things I'm sure," he said and took a large gulp of wine.

"Jules," she said taking hold of his free hand under the table, "tell me what is wrong. This wedding had better come to pass or I will surely lose all hope for the rest of us...for mankind!"

"Stop being so over dramatic," he said, "and just eat your dinner before it spoils."

Ruby huffed to herself and went back to cutting up (stabbing) her chicken. Julia had noticed their hushed conversation and leaned in towards Murdoch.

"Everything all right on the Ruby front?"

"It's under control...for now, but I fear she may be on to us."

Julia looked frightened. "The last thing we need is for her to write a story about this! Sister or no, she would not be able to help herself. You need to distract her from the truth."

"How?"

"I don't know...ask her about her latest trip to South America. She will surely go on for ages about that."

Across the table: "Ah, look, Thomas," said Margaret, grabbing hold of George's arm, and resting her head on his shoulder, "they are so in love with each other that they've quite forgotten about the rest of us!" She glanced up at him and smiled. "Remember when we used to be like that?"

"Can't say that I do," he said, glancing warily at Brackenreid who kept giving him the stink eye.

"Well, I do. Like that one time when we were at that dreadful Stockton party and we..." she placed her hand on his thigh and he jumped in his seat hitting the bottom of the table with enough force to knock his drink over.

George hastily dabbed at the mess he had made of his trousers while Brackenreid looked like he was close to murder again. "Now really Thomas, you have been behaving strangely since you came home. Are you feeling unwell?"

"Perfectly fine, Margaret," he responded. "If you'll excuse me, I need to attend to this."

So saying he snatched up his cane and quickly hobbled in the direction of the water closet. Brackenreid stood up a moment later and left without a word, headed in the same direction.

"Men can be so strange sometimes," said Margaret across the table to Emily.

Emily simply sat there looking quite put out and Margaret went back to eating her meal.

Harry was feeling awkward and left out so he pulled a deck of cards from his pocket, shuffled them and held them out to Julia.

"Pick a card," he told her.

"Oh, I'm not really in the-"

"Come on, son, it'll be fun! Just like when you were a boy!"

"All right," she said taking a card.

"You have to look at it son."

Julia did. "It's a four of clubs."

"No, Willie, you're not supposed to tell me! I was supposed to tell _you_! How could you forget?"

Ruby noticed all the goings on even though Jules was pestering her with redundant questions. As far as she was concerned, something was definitely out of the ordinary. What exactly, she couldn't put her finger on. She was sure that with further investigation, she would figure it out.

Just then the minister came over to William and whispered something in his ear. William left the table for a minute or two and came back. Then he whispered something to Jules. Jules stood up and they made their apologies and said something about a break in the case. When they gestured to George and the inspector and they all left the church together, Ruby excused herself as well and followed suit.

Only Emily, Margaret and Harry remained at the table.

"How rude," muttered Margaret. "Dessert hasn't even been served!"


	12. Chapter 12

"Sam are you all right?" asked George upon their arrival to the station house.

"I'll be fine," he said holding the back of his head. "Just had my senses jogged a bit."

"Did you see who stole the notebook?" asked Julia.

Sam shook his head.

"I'd say it's pretty damn obvious!" said Brackenreid.

"Mr. Carver," said Murdoch, "did you manage to decipher the code before the notebook was stolen?"

He nodded. "It was unlike anything I've ever seen before. I think it was actually a language!"

"This is very important, Mr. Carver," Murdoch continued, "do you remember anything of value?"

He nodded again and they all sighed with relief. "The whole thing seemed to be about a woman named Dara. Whoever wrote it seemed to be in love with her."

"Dara?" said Julia, perplexedly. "That's a rather unusual name."

"Indeed," agreed Murdoch. "Mr. Carver, was a last name given?"

"Afraid not, ma'am, at least, not that I can recall. Just kept referring to his beloved Dara over and over again." Sam closed his eyes in concentration. "The last entry said something about meeting her at night so that they could elope together."

The four of them shared a look.

"Doctor," said George, "does that mean this Dara person killed Gilbert?"

"I don't know, Ge-sir."

"One things for bloody certain, we need to find her!"

* * *

For once things went easily for them. Dara being an extremely unusual name yielded only a few results in the city archives. Then it was just a matter of figuring out which one was the woman in question.

They struck gold on the second attempt.

"Good evening, Mr. Clarval," said Julia flashing her badge, "My name is-"

"Detective Murdoch," said the stocky man. "Yes, I read the paper. What do you want?"

"Is your wife named Dara?"

"Why bother asking questions you already know the answer to?"

Brackenreid smiled sweetly. "Listen here, sunshine, I'd suggest you change your tune fast. I've had a rough day as it is and would like nothing more than to crack some skulls."

Mr. Clarval scowled at him but said, "Dara's my wife. What of it?"

"Could we speak with her?"

"No, you most certainly cannot."

Brackenreid clapped Julia on the shoulder. "Murdoch here was just being polite. You best do as we ask or I'll be forced to break out my black glove. And trust me, son, you don't want me to do that."

"You can't speak to her because she's not in, constable."

"Are you sure about that?" said Murdoch, pointing to women's shoes by the door.

Clarval tried to slam the door in their faces but George stuck his cane in the way and the four of them barged in knocking him over. Brackenreid was quickly straddling him and holding his arms down.

"Where's your wife Clarval?" he yelled. "Did you kill her too?"

"I would never harm her! Even though she betrayed me! I would never harm her!"

Murdoch and Julia explored the house further and found a locked door. Murdoch tried to budge it open with his shoulder and only ended up hurting himself. Julia busted the door down and they found a woman tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth.

Even though she was dishevelled and had clearly been crying, she was still quite striking. Her golden hair practically lit up her face in the darkened room.

Murdoch and Julia freed her and she collapsed into Julia's arms, sobbing on her shoulder.

"Oh God, he killed him, didn't he? He killed my darling Bert!"

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Clarval," said Julia. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Dara fainted at those words and Murdoch helped Julia lay her down on the nearby bed.

The next moment there was a loud yelp of pain, a scuffle and someone running out of the house. Murdoch and Julia ran towards the front of the house to find Brackenreid's nose gushing blood again and George struggling to get onto his feet. Clarval was nowhere to be found.

They chased after him into the streets and down a side alley. They were closing in on him when there was a loud bang and Clarval collapsed and skidded several feet forward. In front of them was none other than Ernie Duncan! The smoke from his gun was still swirling and obscuring his face. Murdoch protectively got in front of Julia, so that if anyone happened to see them now, they would think the detective was quite the coward.

"Ernie, why?!" intoned Murdoch. "He was as good as caught! You would have gotten justice for your friend!"

The gun was still raised, keeping them at bay. "Where I come from, it is one's privilege, nay one's duty to seek vengeance for a loved one."

"Are you saying you were in love with Gilbert?" asked Julia, stepping out from around her fiance, despite his protests.

"We were like brothers. He was the only family remaining to me. Now I have no one and nothing left to live for." He threw the gun on the ground. "Do what you will with me. I care not."

Murdoch examined the gun while Julia handcuffed Ernie from behind. The gun was most definitely not of the same make as the device that had caused the mind swap.

"What of Gilbert's twin brother?" asked Julia. "Surely you could have contacted him?"

Ernie looked at her strangely and then realization dawned on him. "He had no brother. None but me."

"But his organs-"

"Misled you. Where I come from, that arrangement is the norm."

"And just where do you come from?" asked Murdoch uneasily.

In response Ernie looked skyward. Julia and Murdoch shared a bewildered look.

"Our minds," said Murdoch, "how do we get them back in our bodies? Where is the device you used on us?"

Ernie seemed distracted by something. They looked down to see a glowing light emanating from his coat. Murdoch stuck his hand in and retrieved a small circular device.

"What is this?" he asked.

"That," said Ernie, disbelieving, "is a beacon. I had long since given up hope." Then as if he had forgotten they were there he muttered to himself in a strange tongue, one that was equal measures harsh and melodic. Though they did not understand it, it was something like this: "If only Mixlar had heeded my warnings and not gotten involved with a human! We could have returned home together! Curse her resemblance to Faora! Curse your whole damn planet!"

Without warning he knocked Julia's hold off him by ramming her into the wall, then he somehow grabbed the beacon out of Murdoch's hand, pushed him over and sprinted down the alley, all while being handcuffed. Still somewhat stunned, they didn't immediately chase after him. And by the time they did, he had jumped over his restraints and was in the process of stealing a carriage!

"Stop that man!" Murdoch yelled to some men who were closer.

They tried to intervene but Ernie just kicked them and sped off into the night. And of course there were no other carriages to be found!

_Oh for the love of..._

Brackenreid and George appeared a moment later. Brackenreid's front was soiled in crimson.

"Don't tell me he got away _again_!" he hollered.

"I'm afraid so, inspector," said Murdoch.

"This is absurd!" said Julia. "We can't be stuck like this forever, can we?"

"Stuck like what forever?" asked Ruby, who had been hiding behind a couple of wooden crates.

"What are you doing here?" said Julia in frustration.

"Trying to ascertain what you're hiding from me, William. All of you in fact. You're not quite...yourselves."

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Brackenreid. "We don't have time for this!"

They all looked in consternation at him.

"George," said Ruby curiously, "I've never known you to swear like that."

Everyone just decided to ignore her and talked amongst themselves. "Where do you think he could have gotten to?" asked George.

"Well, if what he intimated was true..." said Julia.

"Don't be absurd, Ju-William! It can't be true!"

"Why not?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Because then it would mean that al...they exist!"

"And why is that so unbelievable? Considering our current state, I'd say it's quite plausible!"

Rest assured, Brackenreid and George were just as confused by this conversation as Ruby was.

"Fine!" snapped Murdoch. "Let's assume for the moment that he was telling the truth! He'd need to get to an open area...a field of some sort..."

Murdoch and Julia's eyes widened at the same time and they exclaimed, "The photograph!"

They rushed back to the station house with the other three hot on their heels. Once there, Murdoch held up the original photograph under a magnifying glass, looking for something, anything that would distinguish where the field was that Ernie and Bert had conducted their space travel experiments in.

"There!" he exclaimed, completely breathless. "There's part of a sign in the background! I can't quite make it out though!"

Julia took it from him and said, "I think it says something DEN. Perhaps it's Marsden?"

"I don't think so. Marsden is too far away. It wouldn't have been practical for their experiments. We need a location fairly close to the university grounds."

There was silence.

George snapped his fingers. "Well then it's got to be Warden field!"

"He's right!" said Julia excitedly. "It must be!"

They dashed to the side of the precinct and hopped into a police carriage. Julia very sternly made her sister stay put. Ruby looked to Julia for help but Murdoch told her the same thing.

As they approached Warden field, there was a bright light followed by a series of dimmer lights moving in the night sky! It was vaguely reminiscent of the blimp from all those years ago. But in this case, the lights were moving upwards, not sideways. Before long it was completely out of sight.

"Damn it to hell!" cursed Julia very unladylike.

"Sir, was that a-did he just-were they-" chattered George as he pointed out the window.

"I believe so," said Murdoch.

"Oh my socks!" he cried rapturously. "I was right! I was finally right!"

"Bloody hell," groaned Brackenreid. "We'll never hear the end of this! I'm going to look like a nutter for the rest of my life!"

* * *

For the next few hours they quietly despaired while they dealt with the after math of Michael Clarval. All the while they were badgered by Ruby for answers. No one, not even George was in the mood to fill her in. Then the clock struck ten thirty-three and suddenly everyone who had not been seated collapsed to the floor. Ruby had been close to leaving the station house at that point but then heard the thump as George hit the ground. She desperately tried to wake him and the inspector but to no avail.

_Oh God! They are dead!_

A small sliver of her senses returned to her and she checked for pulses. Both men were alive...but unresponsive for some reason.

The first to awaken was George. He sat upright, confused to find himself on the ground. On top of that his body didn't hurt any more...except for his head and face. He touched his broken nose and grinned.

Ruby rushed to his side and exclaimed, "George! George! Are you all right?"

He grabbed her close to him. "Never better, Ruby! Never better!"

The inspector stirred a moment later at his desk. "Bloody hell. Did someone hit me in the head with a hammer?"

Then he looked around himself and at George and Ruby on the ground and jumped out of his seat. The two men made eye contact and George dashed over to give him a great big bear hug.

"All right, Crabtree." The constable did not let go. "I said enough, son!" shaking George off of him.

Not too long after this Julia and Murdoch ran into the station house (they had been in the morgue) with ecstatic expressions.

"Are you two back as well?"

"Yes, sir!" yelled George giddily, hugging his friend and mentor. For once Murdoch didn't try to shake George off of him.

Julia was practically crying at this point and though Ruby was bewildered, she received her sister's affectionate embrace for the second time that evening.

Afterwards she looked around at all the jubilant faces and said, "Now, will somebody _please_ tell me what on earth just happened?"

In response they all started to laugh.

* * *

The next day before the wedding, George knocked on Murdoch's office door and said, "Sir, it's almost four o'clock. You should probably start preparing for your wedding."

"Right you are, George!" he said, dropping everything and grabbing his hat instead.

Both men were very nearly vibrating with the upcoming prospect. George followed Murdoch's quick step out of the station.

"Something else, George?" Murdoch asked as the constable caught up to him.

"Well, sir, I was just thinking about the aliens."

"Oh? And what did you determine?"

"It must have been terribly lonely for them being stranded on Earth for all those years. I can't imagine being cut off from my loved ones for so long."

"Years, George? How do you know it was years?"

"Oh, well, I went back to Gilbert Fairfax's apartment earlier today and located several more of his journals. Then I had Sam tell me what the first date was over the telephone. It was 1892, sir. An entire decade ago!"

"Indeed! That is a long time, George!"

"Yes, and I was just thinking...their story would make an intriguing moving picture, don't you think?"

Humouring him, Murdoch said, "Certainly, George, but what would you call this moving picture?"

"I don't know, sir, I haven't thought that far ahead. But just think, sir! Aliens crash land on Earth. They blend in with the locals. One of them has a tragic love affair with a human. The other gets revenge for his murder. His people come and whisk him away right at the height of his despair! It would be utterly thrilling!" George's face lit up. "Sir! It could be called extraterrestrials...or E.T.'s for short!"

* * *

**I figured why not actually aliens? Already done real vampires and zombies so this made perfect sense to me. George never really got to meet them though. I feel a bit bad about that. But now he can scour through the journals instead, so that's something. ;D  
**

**As for how they got back into their own bodies: the device's effects were only a temporary 24 hour kind of thing. Sort of cheap but I kind of thought of it as something akin to our immune system. Foreign bodies are flushed out, why not foreign consciousnesses? This happening all at the same time was for dramatic effect and parallels to the beginning.  
**

** As to why Ernie (or whatever his name really was) did that to them in the first place: he had hoped the mind swap would befuddle them long enough to get his revenge unimpeded. But he hadn't counted on being injured as badly as he was (or at all) and so while he was healing in his crashed ships medical center (life support still worked), they caught up with him at the apartments.**


End file.
